Chapter 65

“We need Dracula.” Lynda cringed, never thinking she'd ever say those words. “Unless you know of any others still alive who could stand in for him?” Please let someone else, anyone else fight Boris.

Briefly, Ekaterina closed her eyes, then shook her head. “Louis is a pacifist and would never fight. Gabriella would join with Boris and Simon is too wild. He might kill Boris only to step into his place.”

Not that they'd have better luck with Dracula. Except two of his sons were in danger and Lynda had seen the way he cared for them even if it was twisted and she didn't understand it. “All right, Dracula it is, but Boris killed him so we need to resurrect him first.”

“What?” Ekaterina’s face turned ashen. She pressed a hand to her heart. “How?”

“They fought.” Lynda kicked at a black pebble. “His sacrifice freed me, in part.” Did that mean he wasn't really as bad as she thought but then when they'd been at his house, he'd been lying about knowing her data had been stolen? Why? What was he hiding? Lynda shuddered. Even if he helped her destroy Boris, she didn't think she could ever trust him. Not unless his actions benefited him.

Ekaterina cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, maybe he's changed after all these years.”

“Don't count on it. I think he's just as arrogant and malicious as he was in your time.” Lynda crossed her arms over her chest.

“That sounds like him.” She let out a chuckle.

“Okay, so how do we find Dracula and return us to the land of the living?” What was happening up there anyway? Was Pierre all right? And had Mihnea been restrained or was he turning all the vamps into blood-lust crazies?

“Are you certain you want to do this, Lynda?” she asked. “You're taking a great risk and there are no guarantees that you'll even be able to stop Boris.”

At her nod, Ekaterina pulled her into a hug. Lynda tensed at first then relaxed and hugged her ancestor back. Her mother hadn't been this kind of loving. The only thing she'd cuddled was a beer bottle and her next fix. Her heart clenched with that all too familiar ache whenever she thought of her mom. How she longed for a mom who cared a fraction of what other moms did. “Why couldn't you have been my mother or stayed alive to teach me what you know?”

Tears filled Lynda's eyes. Damn it! Mom is dead and she can still make me cry.

“Oh, no.” Ekaterina pulled back. “You don't know, do you?”

Lynda stiffened. “I know my mom hopped from guy to guy and was more worried about getting drunk or high to care about anything else.” How many times had Lynda had to clean up her mom's puke? Or tow her out of a ditch or sit in the ER while her mom got her stomach pumped.

“It was her magic.”

“Pardon?” Lynda backed up a step. Her mother didn't have any powers except being able to drain hard liquor in seconds.

“She drowned not only her sorrows, but her abilities as well. If you didn't know about your heritage then you'd be safe from all this.” Ekaterina gestured around them. “It was her coping mechanism while yours was to bury your heart and throw yourself into your work.”

“What?” That wasn’t possible. All her life—she swallowed the boulder lodged in her throat. She’d hated her mom forever and now she’d been so wrong and judgmental? If only her mom had talked to her or sought help. Fuck! She and her mom had lived a miserable life and they hadn’t needed to. Sorrow slammed into her.

“I-I didn't know.” Lynda wrapped her arms around herself. Her mom had tried to protect them. “Because of Boris?”

“Yes and her powers. But she died and you settled down, stopped drifting from town to town. Why do you think he was in your city of all the places in the world he could've been?”

Her world shifted and she didn't think anything more would surprise her. Everything was different now. Like she'd been moving through her life in shadow, barely seeing the edges of things. Her whole life she’d seen in black and white, but now there were grays and patterns she never realized before. The only thing that kept her constant was Pierre, Mihnea, and Andrei. They needed her and she needed them just as bad. Her anchors in this wild, crazy life.

Except she wasn't alive. Not yet. And she had to make a deal with a vampire that hopefully would send her immediately back here to the in-between as Ekaterina had called it.

“We've no choice then.” Lynda squared her shoulders. “How do I find Dracula then how do I resurrect us?”

Ekaterina gave her a slight smile, nodding. “Be careful. As great as love is, it can make you a fool.”

“Then I already am one.” And she wouldn't have it any other way. Some people only find one soulmate if they are lucky… She'd found three. And she wasn't going to let any of them go.

“I will help you.” Ekaterina hiked up her skirts and marched to the edge of the horizon where most of the inky black shapes loomed.

Lynda followed her. “What are those things?”

“Lost souls. But they add to the energy of our spell.”

“Wait.” Lynda snatched Ekaterina’s arm. “Will it hurt the dead…the spirits here?”

“Would it matter if it did? They're already dead.”

“Then we do the spell another way.” She wasn't going to have any more guilt on her conscience.

“You are truly my descent and a better witch than I was. By my actions, I harmed many.” Her brows pinched. “Pain and agony and death continue to be reaped from what I've sown.”

“Let's fix it.” Lynda squeezed her shoulder. “Or at least stop Boris from returning to life and creating any more like him.”

Ekaterina inhaled deeply. “Da. But we’ll have to create a circle to keep the entities out. The magic here draws them out.”

Wonderful. Lynda stifled a shiver. “Let’s get to work then.”

* * *

Near the floating figures, Ekaterina linked her arm with Lynda’s. “Focus your intention in agreement with what I say, alright?”

Lynda nodded despite the growing dread sinking in her stomach. Her throat dried as the inky souls drifted closer.

“Protectors of the north, we call you to come and guard our sacred circle,” Ekaterina shouted. “Hail and welcome.”

The faint outline of a mountain appeared before Lynda, and she gasped.

“Good. But the others will take more power and concentration from you.” Ekaterina guided her to the right. “Protectors of the east, we call you to come and guard our sacred circle.”

Tingling glided along Lynda’s arm like the hint of a breeze.

The shifting clouds appeared before then.

“Hail and welcome,” Ekaterina said.

They turned again to the right. This time, Lynda understood the pattern so she added her voice to Ekaterina’s. “Protectors of the west, we call you to come and guard our sacred circle.”

A pregnant pause filled the air.

Ekaterina squeezed her arm and whispered, “Concentrate.”

Closing her eyes, Lynda imagined a waterfall before them. Its crystal waters cleansing and nourishing. She gasped when a hard thump hit her chest. “Ow, what was that?” she asked and opened her eyes.

“Hail and welcome.” Ekaterina didn’t answer her.

Once more they turned right. But the inky creatures that had floated closer to them now were so close Lynda made out faint faces. They were twisted in pain, agony, and some hatred. She swallowed.

“Protectors of the south, we call you to come and guard our sacr—”

Dozens of the shades rushed forward, their mouths agape. Lynda screamed, throwing up her hands to ward them off.

“No! Concentrate on the circle. They can’t pass through once the guardians are set up. Hurry!”

But Lynda’s instincts screamed for her to fight. She pushed forward her magic as hard as she could. A blast ripped along the ground toward the creatures, but it cut through them without affecting them. They snarled with silent screams and surged at the women.

One caught Lynda’s arm. Where it touched her, a cold burn seeped through her flesh.

“No!”

“Finish the circle!” Ekaterina yelled. Two of the creatures had latched onto her. “Hurry!” Her body convulsed and she sank to the ground with the shades looming over her.

Lynda jerked to reach her ancestor but stepping into her path was another inky shadow. This one had her mother’s rage-filled face. It clamped a hand on Lynda’s throat. Squeezing. Her mom was going to kill her! Shit! The heartache and longing she had had her entire life crashed into her. She’d been wrong to think about feeling sorry for her mother. The woman had been a monster just like she was now.

“Protectors of the south,” Lynda pushed the words past her throat, “we… call… you—”

The creature tightened its grip on her throat. Lynda raked her nails on her mom’s arms, but she wouldn’t relent. Her lungs screamed for air. She tried to harness her magic, but it darted away from her like a dream she couldn’t recall but knew was there. Her vision darkened. She’d failed. And she’d failed her princes.